


San Francisco Chronicles

by wetblanketpioneer



Category: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)
Genre: BailBuddies, F/M, Mild Language, Phone Calls & Telephones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2020-10-27 21:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20767508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wetblanketpioneer/pseuds/wetblanketpioneer
Summary: Lenny’s gone west, and Midge is stopping by for a weekend layover. Musings and mischief ensue.





	1. Invitation

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the ever-lovely @Kaarin for the support and late nights!  
ALSO: It’s strongly recommended that you read my previous story, “Break It to Me Gently,” before this one. It’s kinda important.

Berkeley was nice. Cloudy, but nice.

Lenny wasn’t going to complain about the weather. It was a new start for him, one that he desperately needed. Even after his stint on Steve Allen, he was still scraping by. Luckily, some guy offered him a residency for a few months. “From San Francisco,” the guy claimed. Little did Lenny know that by “San Francisco,” the man really meant “Berkeley.” The town itself wasn’t a shithole, of course. It was like a massive Greenwich Village, but with more college students. His apartment wasn’t horrible, either. It was a hop, skip, and jump from the town hotspots, and upstairs from the club that hired him. It was the only ounce of easy in a world that seemed so complicated. Well, not the only easy thing…

“This is Lenny,” he said, picking up the handset. 

“This is Midge,” a voice sounded out, imitating his tone. 

He smiled at the sound of her voice. “I knew it was you from the first syllable you spoke. That, and I don’t get many phone calls from any other lovely ladies beside yourself. “

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or take pity.” She sounded as earnest as ever. 

“How did you find me?” He asked, his smile still plastered across his face. 

“Heard through the grapevine that you picked up a gig in Berkeley, so I called up every club in town trying to track you down. I tried the last one on my list, and it just so happened to be the one you work at.”

“You’re very thorough,” he remarked. “I’m not surprised, but I have to ask: why make the effort?”

“I have a proposal.”

“The doctor works fast, I gather?” Lenny was joking to hide his disappointment, and lighting a cigarette to busy himself. “And what did you say?”

“Oh God no!” She exclaimed, half-shocked and half-amused. She didn’t elaborate on what was going on between her and what’s-his-name. “I meant to ask what you’re doing the Saturday after next?”

The smile morphed into something resembling a smirk. “Let me check my calendar,” he drawled. “Maybe I can pencil you in between my shitty meal with my shitty attorney to discuss the most recent of my shitty mistakes and my rendezvous with our shitty waitress. Just the usual Saturday things. Do you have anything in mind?” 

“Rough week?”

“More like ‘rough month.’” He knew how self-deprecating he was. It was a real shocker that she hadn’t given up on him and his constant bullshit. Maybe she was a saint. Saint Midge of the Mad Divorced Comedians. 

“Thought so. Can I do anything to cheer you up?” she suggested. 

“Any effort of yours on my behalf is greatly appreciated.”

“What if I told you that I’ll be in San Francisco that weekend?”

He rested his cigarette on the rim of the little glass ashtray. “That would make my month.”

He could picture her little smile at his reply and the crinkle of her eyes. “That’s perfect. Shy is slated for a show that Saturday at the Orpheum, then I’m all yours for the weekend.”

“Susie won’t mind?” He asked. He never quite knew where he stood with that woman. She was nervous most of the time around him, but sometimes could be so blunt. 

“She manages my career, not my personal life,” she assured him, albeit sharply. It made him wonder if something had happened between the two. “Anyways, she adores you. Or at least she did when she saw you last.”

“Did you tell her about what happened?” The words came out too fast, making him sound desperate. He slowed down a bit. “Y’know, between us?”

She paused to think before answering. “I didn’t.” Cue his heart sinking. “Not because it didn’t mean anything or was insignificant, because,  _ fuck _ that was significant,” she quickly clarified. “I just—laying all of my cards on the table here—didn’t know if you would feel the same in the morning. Or, when you’re sober. Not that I think you’re some sort of junkie or anything. Hell, that sounds so stupid when I say it out loud, like I’m coverting something up. I obviously don’t want to assume that you like me in that way, but, shit, it felt so right—”

“It’s not stupid,” he interjects. “You wanted to be completely certain, and I get that. I haven’t exactly given you reason to believe that we were more than we are.” He took a puff of his filter-tipped Lucky. “Shit, what are we?”

“I think we’re going to have to figure that out before I tell Susie.”

Lenny couldn’t stop smiling. He was in deep. 

She noticed his momentary pause. “I’ll see you at the Orpheum, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Alright. Stay safe. Don’t do anything rash or reckless.”

He chuckled. “No guarantees there.”

“Please. For me.” She was laying the charm on thick. Lenny could visualize the batting of her long lashes. 

“Fine,” he relented. “You drive a tough bargain, lady.”

“You love it.”


	2. Chapter 2

Lenny had a strict love/hate relationship with the city. Every time he went across the bay, he felt the need to scrub under his fingernails and polish his shoes. He even went so far as to buy a new suit jacket. He was never a man of particular class, but he knew how to clean up. Though, nothing ever seemed clean enough when his taxi pulled up to the Orpheum. As he handed the driver a hefty wad of cab fare and stepped onto the pavement, he realized how out of place his getup really was. His all-black suit set seemed drab compared to the brown pairings the other men wore. He felt like the black sheep of the wicked stage. 

He tried lighting a cigarette to calm his nerves. His hands were shaking as he dug around in his breast pocket for a match, but all he found was a joint and a crushed pack of two cigarettes. No matches, and no lighter. Lucky him. 

“You need a light?” A voice behind him asked. He jumped a little and turned around to see Susie-fucking-Myerson. She looked cleaned up compared to the last time they met. 

“Maybe more than ever.” He bowed down to her flickering light. “Thanks,” He said as he blew a little cloud of smoke. 

“Any time.” There was an awkward pause. Lenny notes that most of his life now consisted of awkward pauses. “Erm—would you like to come backstage? Midge said you were coming so I came out to get you. Unless you want to buy a ticket. We can refund you for that if you’ve already bought one.”

She was stammering. People seemed to do that around him. “I haven’t bought one yet. I just got here.”

“That’s fine.”

Susie turned around on her heels and guided him through the bustling posh crowd. 

“A lot of people at this thing,” he observed as they passed a gaggle of excited teenage girls. 

“Don’t worry. We do this all the time.”

“Sneak people backstage?”

Lenny thought he saw her blush. “Well, just her family, really. And that fucking ex-husband.”

That comforted him a bit, knowing that he was one of a rare kind. Then again, the infamous Mr. Maisel was included in that equation. Lenny wasn’t required to like it. In fact, he hated that. “Ex?”

“Have Midge tell you about that fucking trainwreck.”

“The husband or the fallout?”

“Much of one. More of the other. Anyways, we have arrived,” Susie announced in an unenthusiastic monotone. She gestured towards an unassuming metal door, dented and painted an unsavory shade of beige. “The almighty Stage Door. No corned beef included.” 

A gruff-looking man guarded the door, holding a comically small clipboard. Lenny could feel his dark eyes piercing his skull. “Name?” The man’s voice was a strange hybrid of a growl and a murmur. 

“Myerson. Susie Myerson,” she replied as she tried to sneak a peek at the authorized entry list. 

“What about him?” The guy asked, pointing at Lenny with the tip of his ballpoint pen. 

“And guest,” Susie added. “He’s a guest.”

Lenny smirked at the guard, feeling some sort of special, as the door opened. He and Susie began to walk through a dark and bustling hallway, lined with peeling posters and damask wallpaper. There were some splintered wooden chairs scattered about and nervous-looking crew members dodging them. 

Like Moses’ awkward third cousin trying to part the Red Sea, Susie vainly attempted to evade the passersby. “Coming through!” she nearly shouted. “Second-greatest comedian in the twentieth century coming through!”

He chuckled softly. “Second-best?”

“Midge is number one. Always.”

“Obviously,” he agreed solemnly, nodding his head. 

Susie and Lenny stopped at a clipped and splintering white-washed door. 

_ Knock, knock, knock. _

The door swung open. “I know, I know. I’m running—” Midge froze in the doorway. “Hi,” she managed to get out, albeit breathlessly. A lovely smile crept across her lovely face, almost as lovely as she was. She was wearing a burgundy suit over a spotted pink blouse. She looked like a tulip. But Lenny wasn’t a fashion expert nor a florist. He was just Lenny. 

“Hi,” he replied. He could stare at her for the rest of the night. Scratch that. He could stare at her for the rest of his life. He was so deep in her eyes, and hers in his, that neither of them noticed when Susie stepped away. 

“Do it look too matronly? The get-up, I mean,” Midge asked as she guided him to a dilapidated sofa. She didn’t sit when he did. 

“Never. Nothing ever looks matronly on you.”

“You’re sweet, but I have something else. You’re gonna have to leave.”

“Understandable. We wouldn’t want your adoring fans and backstage crew to get the wrong idea.” He shrugged and stood to exit. He crossed the room to turn the knob. 

“Thank you.” 

He turned to face her, a smile playing on his lips. “It’s the decent thing to do.”

“For showing up,” she clarified. “I’m really glad to see you. Of course, I'm  _ always _ glad to see you, just it’s been so long and I’ve been feeling like such shit lately and I—” 

He interrupted her. “I missed you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Kudos, comments, and constructive criticism welcome!
> 
> Please bookmark this story to get updated when I post!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dressing room antics!

As he waited in the hallway for Midge to get dressed, Lenny tried to distract himself. He pushed around the dust on the ground with the toe of his shoe, sweeping the larger particles and stray hairs into a tidy little pile. He wanted to get his mind off her. 

Then again, Lenny considered, maybe he  _ should _ think this through. He liked Midge, and it was hardly just sexual. He fell for her on a level he had only seen in films. She was like Katharine Hepburn, if Hepburn was a 5’3” Jewish chick. Nonetheless, every part of her was perfect. Sure, other girls were like Midge, but Midge was  _ nothing _ like those other girls. 

Lost in thought, Lenny didn’t immediately notice the creeping of the door opening. 

Midge poked her head through the doorway and blew in his ear. “If you prefer leaning up against rotting drywall over sitting on a plush sofa, you’re welcome to stand there all night.” 

He smiled and crossed the threshold, lightly closing the door behind him. She stood over the dressing table, applying some lipstick in a lighter, more frosted pink. He admired her silently as he resumed his position on the couch. 

“Voila,” Midge proudly sang as she stepped away from the mirror, turning to face Lenny. 

_ Fuck.  _

She was wearing a tiered powder-blue dress. The material looked both fluffy _ and _ structured, and just see-through enough to let the light shine through the ruffles. It was like the nightgown she was wearing when they first met in that cop car, but ten times bigger. Midge was a goddamn radiant-as-fuck cupcake. 

She noticed his silence. “You okay there?”

He snapped back to consciousness. “Of course. I guess I just—”

“That good, huh? I’m glad to know that after two kids and a shit-ton of latkes I can still look nice in a dress I found in the Juniors’ section.”

_ You could look nice in a potato sack _ , he wanted to tell her. That might be laying it on a bit thick, but Lenny’s feelings were far from thin. 

Midge sat next to him on the couch. “I’m probably going to squash this dress, but I don’t care,” she said. She looked into him, like she could read his soul, but he wasn’t disturbed. Her lips curled into a smile. “You’re nervous about something.”

He wasn’t. 

“You’re pensive. That’s the word. Something’s on your mind.”  _ Bingo.  _

She had taken up his hands in hers, as if to say  _ I’m here _ . 

He just kissed her, though. Maybe it was to get rid of tension, or perhaps to distract her from figuring him out. She knew him too well. 

They kissed as if nothing else could fill the holes inside. She leaned into it with the force of a Union Pacific. She was taking and taking and Lenny just wanted to give. Her hands were in his hair and his hands were on her waist. She was warm and soft but pleading and intense. Midge was good. Lenny felt good. The goodness was far from chaste, though. He had to remind himself to slow down, but the way she was softly panting was downright erotic. 

She pulled away for a second, moving her hands to softly caress his face. As he looked into her glittering eyes, he knew that he was in deep.  _ This isn't just infatuation or lust _ , he thought,  _ this is love _ .

They were disturbed by four rapid taps on the door. Midge dropped her head and stood up. “Come in,” she called out, smoothing herself out. Lenny just lounged on the sofa, kicking his knees up to rest where Midge had sat previously. 

Susie opened the door and poked her head inside. “You go on in five,” she told Midge, who was leaning against the edge of the dressing table.

“You can come in, you know.” Midge quickly nodded to Lenny, who took it as a sign to stand up. 

“Thanks.” Susie entered and hastily sat on the withered sofa and lit a cigarette. “Big crowd tonight, Midge. You might want to acknowledge that in your intro or something.”

“Nah,” he interjected. “These rich fucks are out for blood. Screw small talk. It makes you seem nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Midge said calmly. 

“You’re not nervous?” Lenny drawled. 

“She’s not nervous,” Susie answered on Midge’s behalf as she stamped out her cigarette. She sounded almost proud. 

“I stand corrected,” he said, throwing up in hands in mock defeat. “Midge Maisel is not nervous.”

“Weissman,” the two ladies corrected simultaneously. 

Lenny raised an eyebrow at Midge, who picked up on his slight confusion. “It’s Weissman now. Maisel on stage, but Weissman on paper.”

“Oh.” 

What was he supposed to say? When Susie alluded to Midge’s ex-husband, he wasn’t certain whether they had split only emotionally, or legally as well. This confirmed what he had wanted to hear: Midge Ma—  _ Weissman  _ was as free as a bird. Good for her. 

The silence in the room was unpleasant, to say the least. Midge was turned towards the mirror again, applying some sort of face powder with a fluffy pouf. Lenny watched her, for perhaps too long. 

Susie got up from the couch and not-so-subtly checked her watch. “Well Midge,” she declared, “I think it’s time for you to go out and entertain that lovely crowd.”

“By ‘lovely,’ I’m guessing you mean ‘rich white schmucks who didn’t pay outrageous amounts to watch a housewife talk about her new gloves?’”

“You know it,” Susie said with a wink, before leaving. 

Midge turned away from the mirror, ready for what could happen next. “You coming?” she asked.

“I think I’ll hang back a little,” he answered. “I think I need some freshening up, too.” He patted his cheeks for effect. 

“Let’s go.” She took his hand and guided him towards the door. “Besides, it’ll take much more than that to fix  _ you _ up,” she teased. 

“Has anyone told you how funny you are?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final part should be up before the next season! Final stretch!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Last One ;)

“How did I do?”

“Absolutely luminous. You were a revelation, as the critics would say. I was especially impressed with your use of the term ‘bourgeois.’”

“That’s the best of my knowledge of French,” Midge admitted with a shrug as she and Lenny linked arms and began to drift towards her dressing room. “I couldn’t pick it up. I disappoint my mother more and more every day.”

“You’re alright,” he said, pretending to be noncommittal. 

“Good enough.”

“Satisfactory.”

“Above par.”

“Making the grade.”

“I get by.” She side-smiled as they passed a friendly face. They finally reached her room. 

“This is where I leave you.” Lenny tried to hide his disappointment behind a facade of hopeful cheer. 

She shook her head and turned around. “Unzip me, please.”

“What?”

“We’re going out. Zipper.” 

“Ah, I see.” He practically beamed at her as he unhooked the top of her dress. “You want to play hooky, and I’m your first choice. It’s either a vote of confidence or a major character flaw and I can’t decide which is better. Is life on the road really that bad?”

“Buy a gal a couple of drinks first, Sigmund.” She sounded nervous. “The zipper sticks.”

“I can see.” It caught along the waistline. Midge sucked in her stomach as Lenny tugged. 

“Apparently I don’t need a scale any more to tell me I’m gaining weight; my dresses are prime indicators.”

“You look perfect to me,” he mumbled, as he stopped tugging at it and slowly worked towards pulling it down. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely perfect.”

“You’re quite perfect yourself,” she said, opening the door and slipping inside. “I’ve got it from here.” 

He gave a little salute to her little smile as she closed the door. 

Midge shivered as they stepped out into the brisk bay air. Of course she hadn’t brought a proper coat for the night; it would’ve been too convenient. Luckily, she had changed into some thick nylons and a wool turtleneck. 

“You need a coat?” Lenny asked. She never noticed how soft his eyes were. Or, maybe, how soft they could become. They were always like that around her. Other times, they were sharper, picking up every minute detail. 

Midge remembered to reply. “I’ll be fine.” She put on a useless pair of gloves, regretting her answer immensely. She was fucking freezing.

“Where to?”

“Room service?” She was exhausted. 

He chuckled and they set off through the cold to the Pickwick Hotel. “I thought we were going to paint the town.” 

“There’s town between here and there.”

“Yes. Some dumpsters and a few drugstores along the way. Only San Francisco’s best for you.”

She smiled and held onto his arm. Soon enough, they passed by a tiny drugstore, just as Lenny had predicted. Midge broke away with a slight smile. It could’ve been coy, but she wouldn’t know. 

“You sure you want to go in? I think it’s run by the Irish mob,” he said, looking skeptical. 

She swung the door open.

He took the handle from her, holding the door open. “That’s my job.” 

“I need the new issue of Vogue,” she teased. It was a lie. She hadn’t read anything  _ but _ Vogue. Maybe she was just trying to buy some time with Lenny. A couple of hours together and a party-size bag of potato chips? That’ll be a dollar sixty-five. 

They walked into the hole-in-the-wall shop. The soda fountain was closed for the night, and the teenaged cashier was snoring. 

“I don’t know about you, but I could really go for some candy right now,” Lenny observed as he wandered down the aisles. 

“You smoke Lucky Strike, right?” Midge wanted to get him cigarettes. He hadn’t lit a cigarette all night, and she knew he was craving it. 

“Gimme those sissy filter-tipped death sticks.” She tossed the box in his direction. He caught it in one hand. “What are your thoughts on Valentine’s Day?”

“Unnecessary,” she replied simply. She had loved it, once upon a time. Now, it just felt like an excuse for everyone to wear red and write sonnets.  _ Is this what it’s like to be jaded?  _ “What is this, a game show?”

“Yes, and you’re the winner. Congrats.”

“I was the only contestant, Lenny.” Midge had walked to an endcap display of hairbrushes. 

“By default, then.” 

“That’s not much of a win.”

“It’s a win nonetheless. Do you want your prize or not?”

“I’ll accept.” She tried to sound begrudging.

“You win…” Lenny walked up to her, holding something behind his back. “A discount package of nearly-expired Valentine’s Day chocolate!”

She smiled at him as he handed her the gaudy heart-shaped box. “Valentine’s Day was months ago.”

“I plan ahead.” He looked like the most grown-up kid she could ever meet. 

“Bullshit.”

“Lady, do you want the chocolate or not?”

Midge pretended to ponder the proposal. “Would I have to put out?” she asked. She felt sheepish about the little joke. What answer was she looking for? What answer would she get? 

Lenny just winked at her and sauntered to the register. Instead of following him, she just walked to the door. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, nodding her head towards the exit. 

His face shifted between awe and amusement. Midge couldn’t help but feel a little proud of herself. 

“I can assure you, they won’t suspect a thing,” she coaxed. After all, the pockmarked teen was practically passed out on the counter and their findings were shoved unceremoniously along the bottom shelves. 

“Fine by me,” Lenny relented as he joined her in the entryway. 

“You’re especially virtuous tonight,” she observed as he reached for the door handle next to her. 

“And you’re especially daring.” 

She was. Midge closed the gap between them, dropping their bounty on the ground. It didn’t matter to her that they were kissing in a grimy drugstore under hideous fluorescent lighting. She was exactly where she wanted to be. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for joining me on this project! (esp. @Kaarin)   
I started writing this months ago, and it’s been a really fun challenge trying to get this up in time, lol.  
Let me know what you think! I have some extra bits that didn’t make it in, which I can add to Snippets From the Soul, if you would like!  
Season Three, here we come!!

**Author's Note:**

> I have most of this written already, and I can’t wait to show you all what I’ve been working on! Let me know what you think!  
Kudos and Comments appreciated!
> 
> PS- Congrats to Luke Kirby on the Emmy! He deserves it!


End file.
